Le Veoir Récit
by MadameMorganLeFay
Summary: Arthur knew there was more to Merlin than met the eye. Surprisingly, he also knew why. Told in the style of a "récit", which is a long oral tale. Title translation: The True Story". One-shot.


**Le Veoir Récit**

**(The True Story)**

* * *

There was a shadow behind the smile.

It usually waited for him to leave the room, but today, he had caught it red-handed. He didn't confront the suspect just yet- he only stood quietly in his doorway, listening and observing. His target's hands had grown lax from their labours. They were flung far and wide in hopeless abandon. It was a piteous sight. He would never admit it, but he longed to erase that sorrowful look from his suspect's face. For now, he would watch. He needed evidence- had been searching for a full two years. This moment could not go to waste. His target had disposed of his façade and he was fortunate enough to see the result.

He could see the victim's eyes were heavy with tears when he sniffed.

He shouldn't have been surprised; everybody cried now and again. Even himself. So why was he severely taken aback by such abject misery? Was it because he automatically expected his quarry to present a bright face to work? It was an unreasonable request, he realized. No one could mask themselves in optimism for too long, especially when they lived a double life. His target was such a man. Worse, he refused to confide in anyone why this must be the case. Granted, it was understandable, yet he couldn't help but feel excluded. It was as though his quarry viewed him with suspicion, when all the other had to do was simply ask.

Just ask.

He could smell a secret a mile away. He never said so. With his military experience he knew that giving room for others to underestimate him was an advantage. If someone didn't wish to tell him something, then he would waste no time in uncovering the truth for himself. This man had been played. He felt guilty for allowing the other to wallow in fear, but in truth, he had felt so conflicted about declaring solidarity with him. Conflict had stilled his tongue. They were too far along the line for him to turn back and fix his mistakes, and he wasn't sure if he could.

Still, there was one thing that had to be done.

* * *

"Sire!" Merlin wiped at his eyes, and searched in vain for the armour he had abandoned.

"I'm so sorry, I um... I am doing my chores, I swear..."

He risked a peek at the King, who had not moved from where he stood. He was disturbed to find that Arthur had not stopped staring at him since, so he racked his brains for something useful to say.

"Have I forgotten anything? I'm sure I have... Any meetings? Or is it a task? Mucking out your stables, I didn't do that this morning, maybe I should-"

"You mucked out my stables yesterday evening."

It was the first thing Arthur had said, but there was no mocking undertone or rebuke in his words.

"Just a few more minutes, and this armour will be ready..." "It's already gleaming." Merlin fumbled with the cloth in his hands, realizing that he must have completed the task quicker than he had expected. It must have been during those trance-like states he got into when forcing himself to stay concentrated. Else he would think. He hated that, ruminating over topics that would only dampen his mood. And now Arthur had cottoned onto his act... But what did the King of Camelot care whether he was down? Surely he had nothing to fear. His odd behaviour would be noted, but in Arthur's eyes, when wasn't he acting like a complete half-wit? So he had been caught in tears; the King would assume it was all a part of the act.

Wouldn't he?

"Why are you crying, Merlin?" "I'm not..." he rasped, gaping at the floor. So he was wrong, then.

"Tears are not an indicator that you are upset. Right. Good to know."

And the King came to sit next to him on the polished floor. When Merlin regained his composure, he coughed, too embarrassed to question the former directly. This had to be the most unsettling treatment he had ever received. It was one thing for someone to make everything clear to him- or they could lie, and he would always find out because he had uncanny intuition. Enemies despaired of it. Merlin liked to be in control, considered it to be his right. So it was a shock to the system when he could not figure someone out. Being examined as though he were a specimen took some getting used to.

A minute passed in this fashion, until Merlin decided to enquire.

"I am waiting for you to tell me what is upsetting you."

"Why do you care?" He hadn't meant to sound so accusatory, especially not when the King of all people had gone out of his way to ask after his wellbeing. It was the wrong thing to say entirely, though he was burning with curiosity. Arthur was deceptive like that; open, rough and shyly gentle all at the same time. He didn't know if that was all of it.

Unexpectedly, Arthur did not take offence.

"You would wheedle and wheedle if I were in your shoes, wouldn't you? Call my returning the favour a taste of your own medicine, if you will. It is not as though you ever had any concept of the need to be left alone. You always said it was unhelpful, bottling things up. Pain must be shared with someone; you taught me it was easier to overcome that way. Didn't you?"

The King was not one to speak in lengthy prose over any subject unless it was something he deeply cared about. Merlin knew him to be at his most eloquent before battle, when he breathed the fire of belief into his loyal men. Not... now, when a peasant was miserable. Certainly, he had not expected that same man to be quoting him like a book. "So you _do_ listen to my mindless chatter?"

"You are avoiding the question."

"I wasn't aware that there was any question involved. I take it you won't move until I tell you."

"You're smarter than you look."

Merlin sighed, and played with his hands. So tempting. He could just pour out his heart to Arthur right there and then, and finally live in the knowledge that he had someone to talk to. Someone who could understand, or make an effort to. If he couldn't be with the one he loved in this life, at least he had his master and friend. He could do it... Then again, there was so much in his life that was incomprehensible to Arthur. He was a vast ocean of secrets, pre-destined events and sorrow. Arthur was better off not knowing, surely? The King had it hard enough without bearing Merlin's trouble on his shoulders. It wasn't worth—

"Deliberating on whether to confide in me?"

"H-How-?"

"Generally, you are a shifty character, but some of your expressions are easy to read. I think you want to tell me, but feel as though I am either uninterested or unwilling to shoulder your unhappiness. Correct?" There was no reply, only a wide-eyed look. "I take it that I am. So, your reticence would suggest that you have something- or many things on your mind. Troubling secrets, although you'd be surprised to find that not all of those are as hidden as you expected."

"What?"

Arthur gave him a very shrewd look, before his eyes swivelled back to an imaginary spot on his tunic sleeve. "I assume you do not think I am ready to understand," he concluded after another pause.

"Um..."

"Very well. But you will tell me, Merlin. And I guarantee that I will not be surprised. Not for most of it, anyway."

"You... you what?" Arthur, however, had finished his unexpected screed, and was on his feet again in one lithe movement.

"Go back to your chambers. You need an afternoon off, my friend."

* * *

Most of his plan depended on Merlin taking an early night.

If he knew the man as well as he did, he expected that instead of answering questions, his manservant would instantly retreat into his inner sanctum for as long as he could get away with. Gaius would remain in the dark. It wasn't fair on the old Physician, but he would be lying if he professed not to understand why.

So now he was striding down the corridor until he reached Gaius, where he hoped a candid conversation would help him understand.

When he appeared in the doorway, he found the Physician and Guinevere mixing what was shaping up to be the new most disgusting concoction he had ever seen. God knew he had swallowed more than his fair share of those medical horrors. He hated the profession, though he was more than willing to sponsor it. Fortunately, when Gaius was immersed in such tasks, he was more prone to be caught off his guard. The elder had an aggravating penchant for diplomacy. If it weren't for his age, Arthur would have had him socked until he spilled the beans. But for now, he was fairly confident he would worm some home truths about Merlin in this environment.

* * *

"What brings you here, my Lord?"

"Ah..." He played with his gloves for a second. "Merlin... is he asleep?"

"As far as I know. Why- did you need him?"

"No, I was just, ah, making sure. Gaius, for some time, I have been... concerned about Merlin's behaviour."

"Misconduct?" The eyebrow was arched in its perpetually sardonic manner, and Arthur shared a secret smile with Guinevere on the phenomenon. #

"No, no. Despite his common failings, he is competent, no doubt. I suppose given all the other chores he does for yourself, you would have to be. But I digress. I... I have simply noticed that he appears to be... quite sad."

"Poor boy hasn't had it easy, you know," Gaius confessed whilst chopping pink innards, grim-faced. "Lost his father, for one. And Lancelot. And Freya. Very sad, very sad."

Even Guinevere was astonished at Gaius' candour. And who was Freya?

"I... I had no idea," Arthur murmured, at last. "Ah- who is Freya?"

"Druid girl. Trapped by a local bounty hunter because she was cursed by some sorcerer to transform into a-"

"—bastet at the full moon," Arthur whispered, realizing the truth all of a sudden. "She was... here, wasn't she?"

Gaius nodded briskly, adding a handful of thyme to the mix.

"What did she have to do with Merlin?" Guinevere asked tentatively, passing the Physician some ginger.

"Ah, he tried to help her, at risk to his life. Must have broken her out of the cage she was brought in, and-"

"—stole my food to give to her. And all the while, he was joking about my weight..." Arthur trailed off into a horrified silence as the most terrible fact of all surfaced in his mind. He remembered her fright, her pathetic pleas for clemency. The terror in the eyes of one who his father had claimed was a danger to the citizens. And had magic. He had ignored her... He remembered the spear had gleamed in the moonlight and his eyes had narrowed in concentration before he struck...

"—was very upset after that incident," Guinevere was saying to no one in particular. "Almost as though the optimism had been sucked out of him. So discouraged and tired with life itself."

"He adored the girl, I tell you. I can see it now. Whilst she lived, he was bounding up and down the place with the wildest smile you ever saw. Couldn't get him to concentrate on anything. Yes, he loved her deeply." Gaius answered with a nod. "He could understand what it was like to be hunted just for having ma-"

"I think the mixture needs a little more ginseng," Guinevere interrupted, a little too quickly to sound convincing. In any case, Arthur knew full well what was going on, though he said nothing at first.

When he saw that both of them were now more careful over how they spoke, he decided to burst their bubble.

"Yes, I suppose having magic would make you scared of everyone you met, unsure if you could trust them."

They were good- barely moved a muscle, but he had seen how the Elder's fingers slipped and how Guinevere fingers tightened around her pestle. So they had already known. Whilst he bristled at their own refusal to tell him, was there any room for blame? It only showed how much Merlin's friends cared for him.

"Don't worry, I have known for some time now."

Guinevere didn't bother to hide her shock anymore. "You what? When? How? Why didn't you say?"

"Well-"

"He's spent four years so torn up about his secret! All those times you could have put him out of his misery, and you said... nothing?!"

Angering Guinevere was always a terrible political move, but he wasn't in the mood to wriggle back into her good books. He hadn't looked at the problem in this way before, as his audience were about to find out.

"It was... difficult. I had suspected that there was something more to him than he claimed, so I was shocked when I found out."

"When?" Guinevere persisted, her mixture forgotten. Even Gaius had ditched the façade, his expression an unspoken demand.

"We were riding out in the forest one day, when we were attacked by a group of bandits-"

"The story of your life," Guinevere couldn't help adding under her breath, though both men heard her.

"Thanks for that, Guinevere. Anyway, Leon got hit badly. A serious wound from his shoulder to just underneath his ribs- breaking many of them in the process. Terrible pain, as you can imagine. Of course, Merlin stepped in to assist. I knew his skill left something to be desired, having suffered at his hand before. Still, we had no other option." He paused and the same amazement he had experienced back then appeared in his expression. Two years, and it was still so bizarre- but it had only been the beginning. "I... I left to go and check on the other men. But Leon is a good man, so I returned on a whim. And just before I announced myself, I saw..."

"Eyes flashing gold? Strange murmurings in the Old Religion?"

"Precisely that. And that hideous wound... it was resealing itself. I... had never seen anything like it."

"So what did you do?" Guinevere queried after another stunned silence.

"Nothing. What could I do? Arrest Merlin for healing Leon? Was that a crime? I still believed magic was evil, which is what made Merlin's actions even more inexplicable, but I knew I couldn't harm a man for doing good."

"You walked off and pretended not to be surprised a massive wound healed so quickly?"

He nodded quickly. "Furthermore, I think when Leon woke and saw his miraculous recovery and Merlin's presence, he figured it out, too."

"Did he say anything?"

"No, he just scrutinised Merlin and then pointedly praised his skill with herbs. We went back to Camelot, and I did my best to forget the implications of the discovery. I felt guilty even looking at my father, especially when he spoke about the evils of sorcery and the need for its total eradication..." He trailed off- not to reminisce about his father, but to relive his discomfort in the old King's presence. "The second time, I saw him divert a dagger aimed at Uther's heart during Yuletide. Then he knocked the assassin unconscious, all whilst standing next to me."

"And?"

"Well, could I arrest him for saving my father's life?"

"So you let it go."

"Months passed. I was surviving dangerous quest after dangerous quest, and I still pretended that I was exceedingly lucky. Then the Witchfinder-"

"The toads..."

"Merlin's work."

"You defended him in court..."

"I didn't know what his plan was, but I was prepared to take the risk. Making toads come out of Aredian's mouth was a step too far, I admit-"

"Precisely what I told him," Gaius grumbled. It was the first he had spoken since Arthur's sudden announcement, and he seemed to draw comfort from nitpicking rather than confronting the King's astonishing tale.

"Well, he was prepared to execute a wild plan to save you, Gaius. It then occurred to me that he had been doing the same for me, possibly since he arrived in Camelot. Still, I didn't know how to broach the subject, so I took the easy way out. Pretense."

"Pretend obliviousness?" Guinevere gasped, eyes widening as she understood. "To make Merlin feel safe. And there was me thinking you really weren't that bright!"

"An unfortunate side-effect, I concede. Yes, I looked like an idiot for most of the time as you have so helpfully pointed out. But it worked, didn't it? Merlin could practice in peace, I stayed in one piece and Camelot was well protected by its unexpected benefactor. I think you will agree, it was a sensible plan?"

"Brilliant," she breathed with a smile.

"Well, to be fair, I was blind where Morgana was concerned. That is my greatest regret. He must have known she was betraying Camelot all that time. I knew he was doing something behind the scenes, but he was better at concealing that."

"He kept enlisting my help all that time..."

"So that explains why I kept seeing you two peering around corners and scurrying down corridors. I thought you two were having an affair."

"Very funny."

"Anyway," he continued, grinning slightly, "...should anyone else come uncomfortably close to the truth, I exploited my status and insisted that should Merlin be involved in sorcery, I would know."

"But what about that time with the goblin?"

"Fooled you, didn't I? Of course, I had to arrest him- it was a direct order. But I wasn't worried, knowing he would escape, so I sat back and watched it all happen. And that has been the way since then. It is disputable whether I took the right course... but there was no way I was not going to question my father on the issue. You will of course remember his reaction when he claimed I was under a love spell."

Another sombre pause filled the room, and the candles burned a little lower in their holders.

"So... Well, I have no idea whether it is the magic that is troubling him, or this Freya, or Lancelot, or his father- who I have a suspicion was the Dragonlord we recalled when Kilgharrah attacked the Castle."

"Poor Merlin..."

"Hmm. Well, anyway... Tell him to... Tell him to cheer up a little. He may have lost a lot, but... I suppose I do care somewhat." He stared at his gloves for a moment. "Well, that concludes my recital, I suppose."

"Best bed-time story ever," she agreed drily, rolling her eyes. "I had no idea, you... All this time? You are such a weasel, you know that?"

"Again, always so kind Guinevere." He smiled gently at her, then nodded to Gaius before leaving. Or almost leaving; there was still one final clause to be added.

"Oh- and needless to say, this conversation stays here."

"Yes, sire," they chorused.

"I mean, right here. In fact, this conversation does not even leave the very hour."

"Yes, sire."

"If Merlin comes babbling to me about my confessions, I will know exactly where to start looking."

"Yes, sire."

"Good night, then."

* * *

Merlin sank down against his bedroom door, speechless.

He remained huddled up against the wood for a few minutes, his ears ringing. Eventually, when he glanced up at his tiny window, he realized his vision was blurred. He sniffed, and stood unsteadily. As much as he had longed to intrude on the conversation beyond his door, courage had failed him- not least when they had broached sensitive secrets that he had considered buried deep within him. Yet it was so liberating to simply allow what hurt him to be known. He wasn't alone anymore, not when Arthur had said "I do care somewhat." Those four words suddenly justified everything he hurt and bled for. It was that burning light at the end of a dark tunnel. It was a shower of rain at the end of a drought, it was like awaking after a deep sleep.

He was important to everyone he loved; to Gaius, Guinevere, Leon- most of all, Arthur.

Of course, he would have to keep quiet about what he knew, but it would be a comfortable secret to keep. He could walk freely, feeling as though he weighed a hundred pounds less. He would find his smile again. He could defend and not lose hope in his existence. He could fight for his fallen friends.

Arthur had never spoken of legalizing magic, but as always, his words contained a double meaning.

Merlin knew he had been wholeheartedly accepted for his true self once and for all.

* * *

**FINIS**

* * *

**NOTES: A "récit" was an lengthy oral retelling of real or imaginary events. Spelling is in Old French. I feel like Arthur should have been bright enough to figure out what was behind Merlin's act, so I decided to make it happen. What did you think?**


End file.
